


a muse and a flower

by moss_time



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Campaign 2 (Critical Role), Fjolly Week 2019, Other, Pre-Relationship, but like completely different classes? anyway, classes swap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 08:01:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17824940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moss_time/pseuds/moss_time
Summary: A different time and place, some dancing and flowers.





	a muse and a flower

The Mermaid's Treasure has proven to be a damn good place to earn money. Mollymauk has spent the last week at the said tavern, telling fortunes and playing his violin to the crowd that is more than willing to dance and sing to whatever tune he makes up. It really is the best audience he's ever had so far, at such weird place too. The bartender, a grumpy looking dwarf doesn't seem to like Molly too much, but they're obviously excited about the amount of people he's been attracting to their place.

He can't quite remember the name of the village he found himself in but he remembers thinking how incredibly dull it is, muddy and colorless, quiet and almost lifeless if Molly's asked. The people looked like they could use some fun and music.  
That did seem to be the case, as the moment he started playing the patrons that then occupied the tavern lightened up a bit, glancing around, intrigued by a stranger amongst them. They can't be blamed, Molly stood out in such a place, his loud, colorful appearance clashing with the mundane tones that everyone here was a fan of apparently. He's been to many villages and towns similar to this one which didn't appreciate his joyful nature, however folks here latched rather quickly to this break of routine. For such a dim place, their hospitality is on point.

  
Week later the excitement and interest in the newcomer has subsidised, unlike Molly's willingness to entertain whoever crosses the tress hold. He finds that he enjoys this particular tavern. Maybe it's so he can annoy the poor owner some more. Maybe he's just still in the process of figuring out what to do with himself and where to go. With no carnival and with Yasha gone wherever it is Yasha goes, he's left to his own devices for the first time in his short life. It does have some perks, but he's kind of lost. Thankfully the residents here pay him generously so he's not broke yet.

Despite the fact that his presence is no news anymore, there's always a decent amount of eyes on him, and enough individuals who enjoy what he has to offer to the atmosphere.  
There is one particular gaze Molly has noticed lingering on him. Never conversing, dancing or singing along, but watching. He can't say that he minds. Molly enjoys being watched, being the centre of attention. He's made for it.

Unfortunately he's too busy to inspect the individual at the moment, but there will be time for that.

He finishes another reading, one for a gnome lady who seems sceptical but is enjoying the show nevertheless, and decides to take a moment. Finally, he looks back at the person across the room.

  
He's met with a pair of bright yellow eyes of a handsome half-orc, sitting in a far corner of the tavern. The moment he realises Molly caught him staring he averts his gaze. He angles himself towards a woman sitting by his side, looking very drunk and very ready to punch a person. Molly would prefer to avoid that one.

That half-orc though.

He decides to walk over there after he's done working, maybe offer a reading to the man. They don't look like they're leaving any time soon.

  
The evening passes slowly, perhaps it's just the crowd or perhaps it's because it's a first night that Molly would rather spend doing something else. He does need money though, so he ignores the itching need to look for the man across the room and focuses on the people around him.  
When he's finally done, the half-orc and his companion are nowhere to be seen.

 

 ***

 

He doesn't see either of them the next day so he figures he missed his chance. It doesn't bother him much, Molly has never been a person who would stay too hung up on people, even if the said person is extremely pretty and spent the night not so subtly stealing glances at him.

Okay, maybe he's a little disappointed that he never got to talk to the guy.

Which is why he doesn't hesitate next time he spots the half-orc sitting by the bar, alone this time. Even better.  
He strolls across the tavern and gets comfortable on a stool right next to him. He's noticed immediately, which is to be expected, Molly is rather hard to miss, with all the colorful tattoos and the glint of jewellery that adorn almost every part of his body.

“Hello there, handsome,” he grins and leans on the bar. The man gives him a nod and a pleasant smile, the type of a smile you'd give to a person when you want to leave a good impression or seem polite, and that's not quite what Molly wants here.

He has a clever, flirty remark ready, or so he had thought before he met the half-orc eyes and in a second his mind is blank.  
The man's eyes seem even brighter up close, and his gaze is steady enough that Molly maybe would've felt like he's staring into soul, but the slightly darker green tone of his cheeks is giving him away. He notes that no tusks are visible, and his face is scarred. He greets him, deep voice with an accent that sends shivers up Molly's spine.  
He completely forgets what he was about to say.

“You come here often?”

It was probably better than that.  
He gets a confused look back, and kind of wants to smack himself.

“Never mind that,” he adds quickly. He bows mockingly and smiles at the stranger once more. “Mollymauk Tealeaf, formerly of The Fletching and Moondrop Traveling Carnival of Curiosities. And you are?”

“Fjord,” he extends his hand and Molly gladly takes it. He has a firm grip, his hand calloused but still gentle. He's acting so _polite_  it makes Molly want to scream. Either because it's frustrating that the person he may be trying to get in his bed is treating this like a business deal or because it's incredibly hot. He'll figure it out.

The bartender shoots him a mildly annoyed look as he calls him and orders two drinks. Fjord looks almost amused, hiding a smile behind his cup. He seems to be trying to lay low, constantly keeping himself in the darker parts of the tavern and not participating in louder activities. That's fine, there are other things to do. Molly fishes out his cards from the pocket and starts shuffling them.

“Care for a reading?”

“Sure,” Fjord drawls after a moment of thinking. “How much?”

“Buy me a drink.”

“You just bought us both a drink.”

Gods, he's really not helping.

“Dear, I can always have another drink,” he smirks. It's not a lie. Fjord still doesn't look convinced. Still in the process of shuffling, he nods at his cards. “This one's on me. Next time you'll definitely be paying. And buying me a drink.”

“Fair.”

Molly absolutely bullshits the entire reading.

Sure, it's what he always does, but Fjord turns out to be harder to read than expected, certainly more difficult than most patrons that excitedly asked about their fortune. Fjord on the other hand, seems to be more indulging Molly than actually caring about what kind of adventure awaits him, or how is his love life perhaps is about to change. His poor attempts of wooing this man end up either ignored or simply overlooked. Nevertheless, Molly can't help but notice how Fjord's gaze is more often on him instead of the cards.  
After finishing what was probably the worst reading he's ever given and finishing his drink, he catches Fjord fixing him a curious look.

“I've been meaning to ask, and no offence, but what's a person like you doing here? I've never seen you around before.”

Molly keeps shuffling his cards. “So you _do_  come here often?”

Fjord smirks and explains. “Kind of. I'm a sailor, and this place has proven to be...a relatively good for repairs and quite affordable. I've never seen the folks so lively though.”

“Happy to be of service,” he grins. Hopefully they'll keep some of that energy after he's gone. Which he will be soon, he silently promises to himself. Enough time has passed that he's been getting anxious to leave. Staying in one place for too long was never dear to him.

In the end, the encounter is not what he expected, much less physical contact, none if the handshake doesn't count, and more actual conversing. He doesn't mind it, Fjord makes an enjoyable company. Perhaps he had misinterpreted the lingering looks but there are many people to have fun with here.

It's way past midnight when Fjord leaves, mentioning offhand that he'll probably be here some time soon again. When he's already long left and Molly is spending his night just playing short tunes and drinking, he notices something left next to Fjord's cup. There's a tiny bundle of flowers laying there, red, yellow and purple, strong but pleasant smell coming off of them. Molly reaches for it, taking the flowers gently. There is something unusual about them, the strong, sweet smell and bright colors, and as he rolls the stems between his fingers it's almost as if they glimmer. He takes the flowers with him upstairs, laying them on an old nightstand by the bed.

In the morning the flowers are still fresh like they've just been picked and smell just as sweet.

 

 ***

 

Next time he spots Fjord sitting in the tavern, yet again stealing glances at him like he doesn't know he's super obvious about it, Molly tries to get him to dance.

He blushes and makes some excuses at first, which is okay, Molly has his ways. He turns to the blue tiefling that came in with Fjord, but before he has time to say anything Fjord introduces them.

“This is Jester, we work on the same ship,” he says, gesturing towards a woman with a bright grin who waves at him. “Jess, this is Mollymauk.”

“Please dear, it's Molly to my friends.”

Jester's eyes widen. “Are we friends?”

“Of course,” the answer seems to satisfy her, so he pushes on. “So as a friend to a friend, would you help me get Fjord to dance?”

And just like that she's on his side, easily moves the chair under Fjord and practically pushes him in the direction where the dancing is taking place. Fjord looks vaguely betrayed. To show his thanks, and also because she seems absolutely delightful, Molly promises her a reading once he's done dancing. She's obviously excited about the prospect, she grins at him with a mischievous but excited glint in her eyes, then skips off to the table where a card game is taking place. Her enthusiasm and joy are Molly's favorite parts of his job.

Fjord on the other hand doesn't look nearly as happy about a predicament he's found himself in. Molly almost feels bad for dragging him here but oh well, too late now.

“I don't know this dance,” Fjord murmurs in his ear.

Molly scoffs and pulls him closer. “You talk about dancing like it's something you have to _learn_.”

“Well, you kinda do.”

“Lies. Just do whatever you feel like.” Learning has never really been Molly's thing, improvisation and bullshiting are what he relies on and it has worked just fine so far. Most of the time.

But they both really, really suck at this.

Everyone in the tavern seems to know the jovial melody and the dance by heart while the two of them struggle and fuck up just about everything they could. In the end Molly has spent more like laughing and standing on Fjord's feet than actually dancing, and Fjord isn't much better off. It's the most fun he's had during his stay here. His formerly uncomfortable dancing partner now seems to share the sentiment.

“See?” he laughs and nudges Fjord. “No need to learn shit to have a good time.”

Fjord turns him around one last time as the music stops. “Maybe.” There's an amused smile on his face, he does look like he's enjoying this. So Molly counts it as a victory.  
Just as he's about to turn around, ready to fulfil his promise to Jester, Fjord gently brushes his lips against his hand. Then he's gone before Molly gets a chance to react, feeling his heartbeat quicken. That's new. And definitely better than a handshake.

As he's busy processing the kiss he doesn't notice the flowers in his hand until later when he has gotten out of the crowd. There's a bunch of yellow flowers that he recognises as tulips, but he can't figure out how they got there, and Fjord is nowhere in sight.

Molly clutches the flowers and walks towards Jester, completely lost in his thoughts.

 

***

  
The colorful, glimmering flowers he's found few nights before are still in perfect shape. Just in case, Molly does what he's seen Yasha do to preserve flowers and puts them in a book he owns. He's never bothered to read the thing but it proves to be useful for things like this.  
Next morning when he opens it, the flowers have not flattened, have not changed at all. Both those and the tulips look exactly like they looked the moment he got them.

 

***

 

Two weeks after his arrival, Molly gets kicked out of the tavern.

Not a big deal, he decides. Perhaps he has gotten too comfortable. Perhaps whatever occurred last night wasn't a good idea. To be fair he can't remember the majority of it, he was rather drunk, along with a few other patrons. But whatever it was they've done was obviously the last straw and pissed off the owner enough to overlook the fact that Molly's presence has been bringing them more costumers.

So he's out of the Mermaid's Treasure pretty quickly, with just enough time to pack what little belongings he owns. He shoots the owner one last toothy grin from the doorstep, bows for good measure and starts walking towards the coast. It seems to be a good place to start the journey to...whenever he ends up. Yasha will find him eventually. She always does. As he nears the quiet docks he tries to think of a good place to go, a direction at least. Dammit, he really should've bought a map. He can still buy a map. Maybe. How much would a map cost? It's worth a try.

He turns around, about to go back to the place that seemed like it could be a shop, and comes face to face with Fjord.  
He blinks up at the half-orc, confused and feeling kind of awkward. Molly can't say that he planned to say goodbye. It's not really his thing.  
He hopes he hides the surprise well, because there's something about Fjord unlike the few times he spent at the rowdy tavern. He looks, along with the dashing and pretty part, determined, in a way that Molly isn't sure how he feels about.

“Molly,” he starts, faint smile on his face. Molly has to admit that he loves the way his name sounds coming from Fjord. His deep, accented voice is quite pleasant to listen to. “I was hoping to find you around.”

“Oh?” The fact that he's been looking for Molly specifically could be either very good or very bad. Although at the moment, both is fine if Molly's asked. He's already been kicked out of one establishment, what's causing some more trouble before he skips the town?

Fjord frowns, looking unsure now that he's found him. “This might sound weird and sudden.”

“Dear, I'm all about weird and sudden.”

“Sure are,” he scoffs, then clears his throat awkwardly. “I wanted to ask if you had any concrete plans about where you're heading to, because we could use someone like you around.”

Of all the things he could have expected, this proposition wasn't it. But he hides his surprise behind a smirk.

“As anyone would, I am a delight,” he gets only a raised eyebrow in return, but no disagreement. “Who is this 'we' though?”

“My crew and I.”

_Oh_?

“ _Your_ crew? Fjord's?”

“Sure. I'm also known as Captain Tusktooth there,” he smiles politely.

A captain? And here Molly thought he couldn't get more attractive.

“And you want me to come with you because...”

Fjord shrugs nonchalantly, though it just looks like he's trying too hard to seem like he doesn't care much. “I could use a pair of skilled hands.”  
Now, if Yasha were here he'd turn to her and with just a look they'd make a silent bet about what was the meaning behind those words. Yasha, always the practical one, would go for the most obvious option, which was usually the truth, but Molly liked to indulge some fantasies.

“I am quite good with my hands,” he smirks and winks for good measure, which works perfectly if a sudden blush on Fjord's face is anything to go by.

“I meant– the instrument, and you look like someone who can stand their ground in a fight,” he stumbles over his words and looks away in a sad attempt to hide his blush. “People get antsy at sea, they could use someone to get the spirits up. You seem like a perfect person for the job.”

He certainly is.

“You see, I have a friend who is supposed to meet me,” he starts, trying to find a way to make this work. Yasha will find him wherever he is, but she can hardly manifest on a moving ship in the middle of the sea. “So it would help if I new where you're heading, and if you're planning to spend more time in one place.”

“We'll definitely make a stop at a port at Port Demali,” he nods, ready for Molly to have some requests. “I'll make sure you know the exact time.”

It all sounds rather tempting. Entertaining, for sure, and Fjord, along all his already noticeable attributes, seems reasonable. The company he keeps left a good impression too.

“I have some plans, captain Fjord,” he sighs, a lie coming to him easily. When has Molly ever had a plan? That's not what life is about. “But perhaps I could set aside some time for you, if there's anything for me to gain from this arrangement.”  
As if there already isn't. He doesn't mention how he's been kicked out of the tavern he was staying at. He doesn't mention he doesn't really have anywhere to go, that Fjord could not have found a better moment to ask him to join his crew.

“That would be much appreciated. And well paid,” Fjord promises.

Okay, Molly can't say no to that. Money is not his priority but it certainly sweetens the deal.

“Well then, I'm in.”

For a moment Fjord looks surprised but recovers quickly and smiles with a nod.

“Welcome aboard, Molls,” he extends his hand and Molly shakes it, dimly recalling their first meeting and how he almost made a fool of himself because he got lost in his eyes, and now he's calling him by a nickname–

As Fjord lets go of his hand and turns around to show him the way to the ship, there is a singular bright yellow flower, with an orange middle, blooming in his palm.

Curious, he turns it around and just as he expected, there is that familiar glimmer adorns other flowers had as well. Molly looks up and just barely catches a glimpse of Fjord's face, evident blush coloring his cheeks. With a mumble Fjord gestures for him to come along, and Molly walks with him towards the sea.


End file.
